


Contracts.

by judesrivers



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Abbey Road/Let it Be sessions, Allen Klein is a dick, Allen patronizes Paul, I do not know why I like writing angry! Paul, Other, Paul defends Brian, Paul is trying, Paul loses his shit, Slight Anti Semitism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:54:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23143480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judesrivers/pseuds/judesrivers
Summary: Allen gains knowledge that Paul is not as cooperative as he would like him to be. Allen goes to Paul and gives him a handful.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Contracts.

**Author's Note:**

> i may repost some of my other stories on here, or import?? i wish i had knowledge on how to do it instead of posting the same story twice. if you know how to pls help. anyways enjoy this or don’t- excuse errors!!

“Mister Klein?” A blonde hair assistant choked up, her hands nervously fidgeting upwards to slide her glasses properly onto the bridge of her nose. “George, Ringo and John all signed the contract given to them earlier this morning.”

Allen casually puffed out cigar smoke, and narrowed his eyes amusedly at the clammy assistant in front of his desk. “That’s good, that’s good. What about Paul?” He asked, which was the main point of interest within the signing of the contracts. Ever since Allen first met McCartney, he knew that the younger man would be a hassle. Out of all groups and artists he had to worm his way around with, including the Stones and Sam Cooke’s; Paul McCartney seemed to give him much more trouble than he expected.

“Paul didn’t sign it.” She squeaked, clenching her shaking hands into a fist.

Allen emitted a lowered noise that resembled a growl of you didn’t know any better. A long current of vexation shrouded his nervous system as he put his cigar, and placed it carelessly into its ashtray. “Well bring it to him so the man can sign it.”

“Sir he refuses to sign it. Even the group tried to convince him and he said no. He doesn’t trust you.”

Letting out an agitated exhale from the depths of his lungs and breathlessly chuckling, Allen Klein ran a hand through his thinning hair. “I don’t care if he doesn’t trust me. It’s not about what he thinks. It’s what’s best for the band in whole. What I believe is that he’s not looking at that fact.” Allen coolly diagnosed the meaning of Paul’s refusing to cooperate, standing up onto his feet which immediately caused the young assistant to step back instinctively.

His frustration is getting the best of him, soon enough his face will become flush and his voice will be raised within minutes if the matter is not fixed. _Paul_ , _Paul_ motherfucking _Paul_.

Allen made the mental bet that Paul was the one that made things more difficult, and maybe it’s the reason why The Beatles were more than compliant to sign into his grasp. It made the man wonder, what was it like when they were under Brian Epstein? Was it worse if anything? He heard the rumors about Brian, most famously Brian and John. Who knows what other scandals were happening under Brian’s camp?

The click clack of Allen’s shoes down the hall towards the main studio resonated in his own ears. Withdrawing an enormously drunken feeling of power, and it made an angry smirk formulate onto Allen’s face.

If Paul wouldn’t compromise with a air-headed assistant then Allen would damn sure make him compromise with the new manager of The Beatles.

Force will be conducted if needed, he was not going to let one fucking man ruin this for him.

Allen pushed open the double doors of the studio with both hands, his eyes bouncing around the somewhat empty room. Maybe the others have left, which left him positive that Paul was still here since he gained the habit of composing songs by himself.

Allen pursued to bite on his bottom lip, turning around to close the double doors in case things have to get unnecessarily complicated in here. Which, from the way Allen’s skin burned with hot irritation, was a strong possibility that there might.

When Allen walked farther into the room, he managed to spot Paul who was quietly tuning his guitar as if the sound of heavy doors opening did not occur to him. Allen scowled, but then put on a mask that was supposed to keep his angered expression hidden until further notice. “Happy morning there McCartney.” He strained, keeping his balled his planted behind his back.

Paul flickered his eyes up from his guitar, staring up at the older man with an ignorantly innocent look on his face. Though, dawned before Allen there was a murderous look in Paul’s hazel eyes and it almost made Allen laugh. The man could try his best to hide his emotions, but those eyes could make even the blindest man know what was scrambling around in Paul McCartney’s head.

“Morning Klein.” Paul had evenly replied, purposely using his natural mellow voice to signify that no respect on any circumstances may be given towards Klein.

This tone of voice only made the mask on Allen’s face grow more weary, and the anger began to seethe through. “So there was these contracts given out earlier by the assistant, and everyone else had sign it.”

Paul had immediately placed his guitar down in the midst of Allen talking, and stared at him blankly.

Allen nevertheless continued, despite being stared down by a man eleven years younger than him. “So what my assistant told me, is that you refused to sign the contracts.” He said, as he turned around to grasp a lingering chair from the side to drag it over towards Paul. “I don’t know about you, but uh- that’s kind of holding everything up with the corporation. It’s mostly accepting if everyone can coincide with each other.”

Paul watched deadpanned as Allen plopped down in front of him with a grunt. His hands slowly began to fidget, not from being scared nor nervous but from the anxiety that pursued him ever since he was a child. It seemed to just strike him in very serious situations, or situations when he’s in a interview, arguments with John and confrontations. It was not because he feared anything, Paul was not scared of anyone. It was mostly because he dreaded the outcome of it or what was the ‘tomorrow’ of the situation going to be like afterwards.

“So here’s what I’m asking, or to bring it clearer to you. I need you to sign these contracts so whatever we have to get through is done.” Allen said, holding his hands out animatedly towards the set of papers that was sitting loosely on an amp. He figured those were the contracts, just from the blank ‘Signature’ like that had yet to be filled out.

“No.” Paul responded, watching closely as Allen’s eye twitched. “I don’t care about what anyone else says, or whatever you have to say. I know what you’re about and how you treat people. I’ve done my research unlike everyone else, and I don’t trust you with anything that involves The Beatles.”

Allen blinked, and then licked his dry lips as he let every word sink into the acidic fury growing inside of him. “Right, right okay. Maybe I said this in a way that you did not understand.” He murmured, before standing up and moving closer to Paul.

Basically hovering over the younger man, he stared down menacingly at him with a scowl on his face that would have scared anyone else to death. To his amusement, Paul did move back a bit to simply avoid Allen literally breathing hot and angry breaths into his face. “You’re going to sign these fucking contracts, and I don’t care if you don’t fucking trust me you little shit. I own you now, whether you like it or not.”

This was when the deadpanned look on Paul’s face began to transition into much more of a intimidated expression. Allen smirked in satisfaction, watching as Paul’s eyebrows dropped in some sort of astonished frown. The expression went away as fast as it came when the younger male softly, yet challengingly asked; “Are you threatening me?”

Allen moved up, finally giving Paul room to breathe without taking in the scent of cigar and overused cologne. “Not precisely, just giving you a news flash.” Allen replied on edge, getting more frustrated on not making Paul budge yet. “I’m just saying, I’ve been in the business longer than you.”

“Yeah that’s great. I fancy that, I really do. But that doesn’t mean shit to me at the end of the day does it? Big man in a expensive suit, mooching off artists money while they’re still in the crapper.”

Allen sat back down, his eyes turnt in a devilish glare. “Is that not what Epstein was doing?”

This caught Paul on the hook. “What?”

“Oh now don’t be dumb, it’s in his blood is it? Mooching off his artists to heave up as much money as he could get. I say, there’s not much of a difference between me and your old manager if you strongly believe in that side of me.”

Paul immediately grew defensive, “Brian took lots of care of us. Don’t you dare speak of him like that. Without him- we-”

“What? You’d be a doctor? John would be in prison? Oh please.”

“You wouldn’t even be here talking to me right now.” Paul finished in a deathly hollowed tone of voice, and he meant it. “None of us would be in this bloody building without Brian. So before you speak badly on his name you should also worship the ground he walked on.” Paul was angry now, but he refused to let his voice rise to not give Allen the satisfaction of fully triggering his emotions. He won’t let Allen get ahold of The Beatles, he damn sure won’t let him get ahold of his own feelings.

Allen was only getting started though.

“Everyone else signed it!” Allen abruptly shouted, but then a laugh escaped his mouth once he got ahold of his outburst. “And do you know why son? They don’t want you getting ahold of every fucking thing. Because you’re not Brian, and you’ll never be Brian.”

Paul let out a breath, and slowly placed both of his violently shaking hands under his thighs.

Noticing Paul was growing more and more uneasy by the second, since his face was becoming flushed red and he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, Allen continued. “You’re a Beatle. Simply, just that. What they’re thinking is that since you’re so high and mighty, so pristine, so well organized, you find it appropriate to start running things ever since Brian died.”

“Who’s been thinking that?” Paul asked, tilting his head up to meet Allen’s gaze. His hazel eyes seemed to have changed colors, and it looked as if they began to darken significantly while his thoughts began to race.

“Oh I know George thinks it. Ringo probably does, has to be at this point.” Allen smirked, his ego growing by the second as he took in the way Paul’s eyes would widen slightly. “Oh yeah and John, most definitely John does. He even told me once. Him and George both think that you’re taking this leader shit out of hand.”

_That was the nail in the coffin_.

“Get the fuck out.” Paul spat, standing up with his voice sharp and lowered. “I’m not signing any of the bullshit that you want me to sign. I’m not listening to you and your lies either just like everyone else has. Get out of my face now.”

“Oh ho ho, did I hurt thee famous Paul McCartney’s feelings? Was it John? I know how close you two are. Hell he even goes around calling you princess, how was I to know that mentioning how he does not like your controlling would set you off.”

“ _Get_. _Out_.” Paul clenched his teeth, voice lowered dangerously and his blood boiling.

Allen chuckled and ignored the wavering patience still mounted in Paul’s venomous tone, “Well John signed the contracts Paul. He signed the contracts! Like I said, I own you. If I own John, I own you. Two peas in a pod really.”

Paul hadn’t felt the feeling of physically harming someone ever since the Stuart situation. When it came to his John, there was some sort of dangerous Defcon button that should not be pushed under any circumstance.

First it’d be through harsh and unbearable words, and then once you’ve somehow managed to breeze past that redline then it’d get physical.

Once Paul starts swinging, you can not stop him.

“So, with that being said..” Allen walked over towards the amp where the papers laid arrest, and grasped them into his hold. “Why don’t we put this meeting at an end, and just sign the contracts for goodness sake.” He said as he dug a pen from his suit pocket, and headed back over towards Paul.

“I said NO!” Paul finally let a hulk-like voice that did not sound like his own rip out of his throat, and then aggressively whisked around to grab at his guitar.

Allen moved faster though, already knowing that Paul was pushed to the edge. Yanking Paul’s guitar up into his freehand which made the pen drop onto the floor, Allen let out a snide laugh as Paul blinked in token annoyance. “I won’t give this baby back until you sign these.”

“Are you serious?” Paul choked out a laugh of disbelief, and ran a hand through his growing hair. “Give me my guitar back Allen.”

“No, no, not without you signing these papers.”

“I’m not signing the fucking papers you son of a bit-” Paul had then friskily cut himself off, and turned around to walk away from Allen towards the other side of the room. He needed to sort himself out, and try to calm his nerves before he makes things a bigger mess than it already is.

Allen chuckled to himself, gripping the neck of the guitar as tightly as he could which caused some of the strings to strain against his death grip.

Whilst Paul was going through a mental crisis, the doubled doors opened and entered John Lennon. The man of the fucking hour. The thick scent of the tension made the small smile that lingered on his face automatically fade.

Looking to his right, he saw Paul with his hands clasped together behind his back and his eyes closed, looking tense as ever.Looking forward, he noticed his beloved manager who had now put on a innocent facade, something different than the evil scowl on his face seconds before.

“What the bloody hell is going on in here?” John asked as he stepped forward, closing the door behind him as his eyes bounced back and forth from Paul to Allen.

“Well, we was just discussing something about the contracts and Paul seemed to get upset with me.” Allen fibbed up a story before Paul could scramble his thoughts together to answer the question.

Right after that explanation, Paul abruptly pulled out a cigarette pack from his pocket in a way that made both John and Allen think on first glance that it was some type of harmful weapon.

“Is that it?” John had somewhat motherly asked, treading lightly on the matter since he immediately recognized the sharp way Paul was acting. The younger man was about to hurt someone. Something dyer must’ve happened in here, he had seen Paul upset before but only rare times had he witness Paul dangerously mad.

“Of course Johnny, if there was more to be said then I would have said it.”

“Then fucking say it!” Paul caterwauled, “Don’t bear around the bush, and that goes for the both of you. If something needs to be said then _fucking_ say it.”

“What are you talking about?” John asked, seemingly surprised at how different Paul sounded when he was this mad.

Paul only stared at John with an emotion that the older man could not read. Instead of answering, he left out of the room through the doubles doors with a cigarette being placed in between his lips.

•••


End file.
